


A Benarmie Family Christmas

by rudbeckia



Series: Flatmates who... [9]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Family Issues, First Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Armitage Hux, recently estranged from his arsehole parents, is looking forward to a nice, calm, quiet Christmas without Ben and without drama. But Ben’s parents cancel on him so he goes back home to Armitage and buys the biggest tree he can carry as retail therapy.Then Thanisson has a disaster when his brother outs him to his family, and he can only think to call one person for help: his super-capable ex-flatmate, Hux.As Ben and Hux go to rescue Thanisson, Ben texts Phasma for advice. Phasma asks Mitaka what to do. And before they know it, Christmas is officially Happening in the Benarmie household. Armitage knows he should be angry, but it’s hard to stay grumpy when it’s the best Christmas you’ve ever had.





	A Benarmie Family Christmas

“Babe?” Ben called through the flat as soon as he opened the front door.  
“Sssh, you don’t need to yell,” said Armitage from the kitchen, right next to the front door. “Flat’s not that big.”  
“Sorry.” Ben shouldered his way through the door, kicking it closed behind him and dropping something with a heavy thump. He went into the kitchen although there wasn’t really room for two in the narrow galley. “I got us some stuff.”  
“Stuff?” Armitage watched Ben unpack his bag and put a bottle of Jura Superstition into the store cupboard.  
“Fill this, would you?” Ben held out a plastic tray. Armitage frowned at it.  
“Ice cubes?”  
“Look closer.”  
“Christmas tree shaped ice cubes?”  
Ben handed Armitage another tray. “And stars.”  
Armitage’s frown deepened. “Do you think that while you are spending the festive season with your family at some fancy London hotel, I will be alone and drinking myself stupid here?”  
“What?” Ben shook his head. “No. I was going to invite you to come with me to London to meet my folks but they cancelled on me. I got a text from my mom. Something came up, apparently, and her London trip is off.”  
“Oh.” Armitage chewed his lower lip. “Sorry. That must suck.”  
Ben shrugged. “Happens. I spent my train fare money on whisky and ice cube trays. And a few other things since we’ll be spending our first Christmas together after all.”  
“Tak invited me to go home with him. His folks go all out at this time of year and celebrate everything between winter solstice and Christmas on the Orthodox calendar. I think he wants company to take his mind off Thanisson’s absence.”  
“Oh.” Ben’s face fell.  
“I said no to that torture, of course.” Armitage‘s eyes sparkled. “So it’s just you and me.”

Ben whooped and told Armitage to wait right where he was. Armitage listened, smiling, as he heard Ben take off his coat, then Ben appeared in the doorway looking intensely proud of himself. “Are you ready?” he asked.  
“For wh—AT IN THE NAME OF...?”  
“Isn’t it great?” Ben beamed at Armitage.  
Armitage stared at the taller-than-Ben spruce tree, branches barely constrained by green plastic netting, that Ben was supporting with one hand. He shook his head and Ben’s face fell. Ben pouted and Armitage’s face softened.  
“That’s far too big for our flat. It’ll take up half the living room. It’ll drop needles everywhere. It’ll wilt and smell funny and... and stop making that face! Not fair!”  
Ben sucked his bottom lip back to its normal position and raised his eyes from their begging puppydog position. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go put it up.”  
“Wait,” said Armitage, a sudden mental image replacing his annoyance with an impressed glow. “How the fuck did you get that home?”  
“It sure is a weight,” said Ben. “Good thing I lift.”

To Ben’s obvious disappointment, and Armitage’s mirth, he could not put the tree up right away because, as it turns out, real trees don’t have fold-out tripod legs to stand them up. When Armitage stopped laughing at Ben’s cursing, he made a suggestion.  
“Look, we don’t have any decorations. I wasn’t going to bother if it was just me here, but if you like we could set a budget then go to Poundies and get a stand and some lights.”  
Ben perked up immediately. “I still have some money from the allowance mom put in my account for the train fare.”  
Armitage raised his eyebrows. “How much did you tell your mom train tickets cost?”

Twenty minutes later, muffled against the weather in coats and scarves, Armitage and Ben stepped out of their building into the five o’clock dark. The half-hour walk to the city centre warmed them up and they bickered over what decorations to buy. Armitage wanted a colour theme of white lights with matching baubles and absolutely no tacky tinsel. Ben wanted to load the tree with multicoloured everything. The streets were bustling with people getting off work and popping to the shops or buying mass-produced crafts at the German market that sprung up along the centre of the main street every year, then loading themselves and their purchases onto buses that groaned and crawled. The bright pound-shop interior distressed Armitage slightly with its lack of (in his opinion) logical structure to the layout of goods, but Ben grabbed a basket with one hand and Armitage’s hand with the other and pulled him to the seasonal goods where shelves were stacked floor to ceiling with gaudy Christmas decorations.

Armitage picked out a string of tasteful blue-white lights shaped like icicles. Ben added another set of multicoloured chaser lights with eight timer settings and a musical option.  
“No,” said Armitage, putting the box back on the shelf.  
“I like them!” protested Ben, choosing another set. “These ones then. They don’t play any jingles.”  
“But they’re multicoloured. They even clash with themselves,” said Armitage.  
Ben gave him ‘the look’ again. Armitage sighed and took the box back out of the basket. “Oh come on,” said Ben. “It’s my Christmas too and I like tasteless flashing lights.”  
“They’ll spoil the look of the tree,” said Armitage, putting the box back on the shelf.  
Ben put the basket down and walked away.

Armitage watched, confused for a few seconds, until Ben disappeared around the end of the aisle. He grabbed the basket and the lights and chased after him, tripping and stumbling over a wire basket overflowing with plastic holly wreaths.  
“Ben?”  
Ben kept going until he was out of the shop. Armitage dropped the basket and followed. Behind him, a shop assistant tutted and picked up the abandoned basket.  
“Ben, stop. Please.”  
Ben stopped but didn’t turn round. Armitage caught up and took his arm. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—“  
“Does having a tasteful tree make spending Christmas without your family better?” Ben spoke sharply to the air beside Armitage’s head.  
“Maratelle always insisted on a colour scheme for the decorations and bitched like crazy about the trees in the neighbours’ windows. I suppose it must have got under my skin a bit. Look, Christmas without my family is always better.” Armitage put his hands on Ben’s shoulders. Ben glanced at him then looked up to avoid his eyes. “But I see you feel differently about yours. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be hurtful but I upset you anyway. It was tactless.”  
I know. You just fucking took over.”  
“Well then,” Armitage said, sliding his hands down Ben’s arms to his wrists and easing his hands free of his pockets. “Let’s go get some snacks from the German market then come back when the staff have forgotten about us. I’m not ready to go back in there and be judged for being a bad boyfriend.”  
Ben smiled like he was trying not to. “If we spend money on glühwein and frankfurters there won’t be enough left for those expensive icicle lights you were looking at,” he said.  
“Then we’ll have to get the cheaper, multicoloured lights.” Armitage smiled and slipped his hand into Ben’s. “It’s a travesty but I’m willing to live with it.”  
“I have a better idea,” said Ben. “You go buy some red wine from the Tesco Metro and I’ll get the decorations. Meet you back here in fifteen minutes.”  
Armitage kissed Ben on the cheek and walked off. Ben smiled and went back into the shop.

An hour and a half later, Ben turned off the cooker and closed his eyes as spicy fumes rose from the pan. He set the lid on it and dragged it off the hob and onto a mat to cool. He turned the oven off too and wandered into the living room to see Armitage on hands and knees, head and shoulders vanishing under the tree. Ben watched, head tilted, until Armitage emerged, hair in disarray with dark evergreen needles poking out from between bright orange strands. Ben grinned and picked them out, one by one, until Armitage shook his head and shuddered at the ghost-fingers sensation of needles falling down inside his shirt.  
“Help me position it?” Armitage said. “We need to move some furniture.”  
“Window,” said Ben with a decisive nod. The table and chairs can go... somewhere else.”  
It was a deep bay window, but even so Armitage pursed his lips and shook his head. Between them they managed to stack the dining chairs and detach the legs from the table so that they would just fit in the bedroom between Armitage’s side of the bed and the wall. They moved all the rest of the furniture (really just an undersized desk, two small sofas, the upended cardboard crate that served as a coffee table, and the TV on its stand) back a bit from the window so that there was space to move around the tree.  
“Gonna look so good in here!” Ben enthused. “Cozy!”  
Armitage smiled despite himself.

Armitage went to the kitchen to serve two cups of Ben’s home made mulled wine and warmed up mince pies while Ben unpacked the decorations. Armitage watched from the doorway as Ben tested the lights, face illuminated in twinkling technicolour. Ben saw him and smiled, holding out a hand for his wine. Armitage handed him a cup and set his own on the windowsill. He rooted through the collection of plastic tat that Ben had bought and found a silver, glittery wirework star-shaped tree topper.  
“Give me the lights,” he said, then checked his tone of voice. “Um, I mean, can I do this bit?”  
“Sure,” Ben handed Armitage the string of (thankfully non-musical) lights. Armitage found the end and pushed the last five LED bulbs up into the star. He reached up and pulled the top spike of the tree over so that he could jam the star onto it. When he let go, it sagged a little sadly. Ben laughed and straightened it up, then circled the tree trailing the rest of the lights in a spiral around it.  
“You’ve done this before,” said Armitage, sipping mulled wine. “I can tell.”  
“Almost every year,” replied Ben. “When dad or Uncle Chewie weren’t there I was the only one tall enough to do the lights properly. I’m impressed you knew about putting lights in the star.”  
Armitage shrugged. “I just thought it might look nice to have one of each colour at the top. Maratelle always had the tree exactly the same way every year. I’d come home from school and it would already be up. I swear it came in a big box already decorated.”  
“Aw, man, you missed out!” Ben handed Armitage a pack of multicoloured baubles and a pack of hooks. “Arguing over where to put our own special decoration was the most fun part.”  
“You had special decorations?” Armitage cocked an eyebrow at Ben and reached for a mince pie.  
“Yeah. We each got one on our first Christmas that would be ours forever. Mine was a silver bauble that looked like the moon. Every year, I’d hang it up and Dad would say _”that’s no moon!”_ and we’d laugh as if he was actually funny. I guess that’s pretty lame, huh?”  
“No,” Armitage shook his head and looked out of the window at the other flats across the road. Lights flashed here and there where occupants had already put up decorations. He blinked to regain focus. “It’s nice. I wish... Pass me the tinsel.”  
Ben laughed and threw a shimmering gold strand around Armitage’s neck.

It took another hour but at last the tree was festooned to Ben’s satisfaction with lights, tinsel, and shiny baubles, and Ben and Armitage were contentedly full of mulled wine and mince pies. They stood back and put the lights out to admire their work.  
“I hate to say it,” said Armitage, resting his head on Ben’s shoulder, “but you were right about the lights.”  
Ben looped his arm around Armitage’s shoulders and said, “Can I record you saying that?”

Less than twenty hours later Armitage’s plan for a quiet Christmas changed again. He frowned at his buzzing phone and answered it, and Ben listened in to half a conversation.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey, slow down!”  
“Okay. Um. Okay... Are you okay?”  
“Okay. No. Wait...”  
Armitage turned to Ben and shook his leg. “Can I borrow your car?”  
Ben groaned but nodded.  
“Stay where you are. I’ll come and get you.”  
“I promise. Text me if you have to move.”  
Armitage hung up. “Thanisson’s brother outed him to his folks. They’re super religious so I don’t think it went well. I said I’d go get him.”  
“On it,” said Ben already half out of his seat. “Where are we going?”  
“The railway station nearest his parents’ place. He walked there but there are no trains to anywhere and no taxis because there are no trains. It’s not too far, I promise.”  
Ben drove carefully and Armitage offered grateful silence for the kindness. Within the hour, Ben pulled the little car up to the drop off point in front of a grey limestone building with glass doors set in an arched doorway. Armitage got out and tipped the seat forward just as a small figure trotted up to the car. Thanisson got in the back.  
“No bags?” asked Ben as Armitage got back into his seat.  
“I left in a bit of a hurry,” said Thanisson. “Sorry to ruin Christmas for you too.”  
Ben reached back and patted Thanisson’s leg. Armitage twisted in his seat and said, “We’ve got a real tree. You’re staying over, right? I mean, since Tak’s away. Just warning you that it’s fucking huge and you’ll wake up with pine needles sticking to your arse.”  
In the back, Thanisson laughed then burst into tears.

He’d recovered by the time Ben drove into their street and parked. Armitage ordered takeaway and Ben took the spare keys that Armitage kept for Thanisson and Mitaka’s place to fetch him some clothes. Thanisson made himself look small on one of the sofas.  
“Sorry about all this,” he said.  
“Don’t mention it. Does Tak know what happened?”  
Thanisson shook his head. “Doph’s been gushing about how great it is at his family’s place for weeks. I didn’t want to spoil that for him.”  
“Whereas you knew I’d be miserable anyway?” Armitage laughed at the horror on Thanisson’s face. “Don’t worry. We almost broke up yesterday in the middle of Poundies over which fairy lights to buy. Coping with the festive season is not one of my strong points.”  
Thanisson managed a smile. “I will call him once I’m feeling a bit less... a bit _less_ about it all.”  
Armitage smiled and nodded. The front door opened and he heard Ben drop a bag then pay for the takeaway.  
A minute later, Thanisson’s phone rang. Armitage got up, muttering that he should help Ben in the kitchen, and closed the living room door behind him.

“You got... turkey and trimmings pizza?” said Ben, lifting the lid of the pizza box and peering at the contents. “Eww, there are sliced sprouts and jam on this!”  
“It’s Christmas Eve,” said Armitage. “It’s cranberry dip.”  
Ben laughed. “That’s gross but I’m hungry. How is he?”  
“Crying into the phone. I hope it’s his parents calling with profuse apologies.”  
“Unlikely,” said Ben. “I texted Phasma for advice on how to deal with this and she said she’d text Mitaka and ask him to get back to us.”  
Ben took a slice of pizza, bit, chewed and swallowed. Armitage listened outside the living room door for a few seconds then scurried back into the kitchen before Thanisson caught him.  
“Doph called. He’s coming over tomorrow. He told his folks what happened and they went apeshit. His mum grabbed the phone off him and said that if I’m Doph’s lad and he’s _her_ lad then that makes me her lad too and I am _so fucking confused_ about families right now. Is that turkey trimmings pizza from Khan’s Kitchen?”  
Thanisson reached past Armitage and helped himself. Ben lifted the box and made shooing motions towards the door. They went into the living room and sat: Thanisson on one sofa, Ben and Armitage crammed onto the other. Ben set the pizza box on the cardboard coffee table and they finished eating in silence. Ben put the TV on and handed the remote to Thanisson.  
“You pick. Okay if we snuggle?”  
Thanisson laughed. “That’s fair after what Doph and I put Hux through.”

They watched Thanisson’s choice of film—a romcom that would have made Armitage want to vomit had he stayed awake—then waited to exchange Merry Christmases at midnight. Ben hefted Armitage up in his arms and carried him through to the bedroom, dropping him onto the bed then went back to see Thanisson settled on the living room floor with sleeping bag, pillows and a spare blanket. Armitage got ready for bed and slipped under the covers. Ben returned and pointed at the ceiling above the remaining pillows.  
“Oh look,” he said. “Wonder what that’s for?”  
Armitage looked up and giggled at the sight of plastic mistletoe dangling from a thread stapled to the woodchip above their heads. “Well then,” he said. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

Armitage woke late. Ben was absent but he often got up quietly and went for a run on days he couldn’t use the gym. There was silence from the flat so he got up and took a shower before making coffee. The sound of the coffee machine was enough to persuade Thanisson to emerge, yawning and shivering, from the living room. Armitage silently handed him a mug—milk and two sugars—and patted his cheek. Thanisson hugged Armitage, drank his coffee and disappeared into the bathroom. After a few seconds, Armitage heard the shower running and clicked the immersion heater on for an extra boost before Ben got back. By the time the door banged, Armitage and Thanisson were sitting in the living room browsing the internet and choosing which Christmas films to watch later. The door banged again and Armitage tutted and got up.  
“Ben must have forgotten his key.”  
He opened the door and stepped back. “Phasma?”  
“Happy Christmas. You know Unamo? Yes?”  
Armitage waved the tall blonde weightlifter and the smaller but barely less powerful brunette inside.  
“Happy Christmas. Um, not to be rude but...”  
“But what the fuck are we doing here?” Phasma supplied then laughed. “Sorry. I guess Ben omitted to mention the invitation. When he texted me yesterday I said that Una and I were at a loose end so he suggested we come over and admire his tree. At least,” Phasma scratched her head and winked. “I think that’s what he meant when he said _I got the biggest trunk in town and Arm’s totally on it you got no clue what you’re missing babyblue._  
“I can’t believe he calls you that and you let him live,” said Unamo.  
Armitage laughed through his irritation. “In there,” he said, pointing. “Is it too early for alcohol?”  
“Christmas is exempt,” said Thanisson, hugging Phasma then Unamo. “My mother would start at eleven with sherry and fruit cake.”  
Armitage raised his eyebrows. “Is your mother called Maratelle? We might be brothers.”  
Unamo smiled and held out a bag that clinked. Inside was a bottle of Fino, a bottle of Oloroso, and a packet of plastic wine glasses.  
“No cake,” said Unamo. “She ate it all for breakfast.”  
“Pig!” said Thanisson, ducking the swipe from Phasma’s arm.  
“It’s fine,” added Unamo with a smirk. “Cake was the second course.”  
Thanisson sniggered, Phasma went red and covered her mouth and Unamo laughed. Armitage hurried to the kitchen to put the sherry in the fridge.

When Ben got back from his run, he found a party already started, He said hi, exchanged insults with his fellow weightlifters and went for a shower, motioning with his eyes for Armitage to follow him into the little bathroom. He started the shower and stripped off. Armitage dropped his clothes and followed.  
“Sorry I should’ve warned you. I didn’t think they’d be here so early. Phas is having a rough time and Una thought company would do her good.”  
Armitage considered his feelings for a few seconds and found himself saying, “it’s okay,” and meaning it. “Really. I thought I was going to enjoy a week and a bit on my own but I know I’d get bored. I suppose I’m used to having more people around these days.”  
Ben held him close. “Mmhmm. I’m glad. You’re really okay with guests today?”  
“Yes. I really am. I mean it’s a shame we don’t get to have sex under the tree but...” He shrugged. “I can live without a festive fuck.”  
Ben grinned and murmured, “this might be the most privacy we have all day.”  
“Well then, in that case,” said Armitage with a sly grin, “you better tell me all about how you have the biggest trunk in town.”  
“Funny story that,” said Ben. I think I need to demonstrate.”

Armitage came hard with the back of his shoulders pressed against the cold tiles of the over-bath shower, his arms clinging around Ben’s neck and his legs wrapped firmly around Ben’s waist. One of Ben’s enormous, warm hands splayed on his lower back and the other clasped his cock. Ben came seconds later, stifling his usual sounds with a mouthful of Armitage’s shoulder. They held still for a few seconds then Armitage laughed softly and shifted so that Ben pulled out and he could set his feet on the floor of the bath. The water was already cooling so he rinsed off quickly and stepped carefully onto the bathmat, towelling off and getting dressed. He slipped out of the bathroom and heard Ben lock the door again behind him. The living room was crowded and he could smell food from the kitchen.  
“Hux!” Armitage saw Mitaka detach himself from Thanisson and weave through the small throng. “Sorry. You were busy when we arrived. Phas let us in. I hope we’re not intruding too much but—“ Mitaka looked panicked and Armitage shook his head. “Thanisson said he told you we were coming so I thought it would be okay just to start.”  
“Start what?” said Armitage, looking over his shoulder at the kitchen and noticing a couple of strangers peering at the oven.  
“Oh!” Mitaka smiled. “Those are my parents. And that’s my sister,” he said, pointing at a teenage girl currently occupied with staring at Phasma while she flexed, “and that’s my youngest brother climbing up on Than’s knee. They couldn’t really be left so...” Mitaka shrugged. “My folks wanted us to come for Than as soon as possible so we set off first thing. Thanks, Hux. I know you two have never really been great friends until now but I’m so glad you and Ben were there for him.”  
“Yes, but...” Armitage shrugged expressively. “Why are your parents in my kitchen?”  
“Oh!” Mitaka laughed. We brought food. They’re making Christmas dinner for us all. Dad said you wouldn’t have enough in for everyone and Mum said you would have, like, one bottle of mediocre Cava. She was impressed with the sherry.” Armitage pulled his lips into a thin line and shook his head slowly. “Oh,” said Mitaka. “Phas brought that?”  
Armitage nodded. “Deep down,” he said with a sigh, “I know I should be incandescent about having my home invaded like this. But actually it’s kind of... nice. To be able to... whatever.”  
Mitaka smiled and hugged Armitage briefly. “Thanks. You can be as angry with me as you like when it’s all sorted out.”

Mitaka, as the designated driver of the family seven-seater, was the only person trusted to tell tales of Christmas that year and he refused to confirm or deny anything his younger siblings said about Una and Phasma kissing under the mistletoe in Armie’s bedroom, or the weird sounds coming from the bathroom, or the disappearance of the bottle of Jura that Ben swore he’d bought for Armie. He was especially silent on the topic of the two older adults seen out in the shared backyard, lighting candles at sundown and chanting as they ate something they called _special lebkuchen._ Mitaka said he sometimes felt like the only person on the planet whose fifty-year-old parents were a bad influence on him, but then Thanisson would just smile and he’d take it all back.

The assorted Mitakas, including their newest family member, departed around nine in the evening with embarrassed shuffles from the youngest two and effusive thanks for being _such good friends to our lads, consider yourselves all Mitakas now, ‘kay?_ from the oldest. Doph hugged Armitage and Ben once each, quickly, and escaped without looking back. Phasma and Una stayed until all the plastic cutlery and picnic wine glasses were found, paper plates were binned and aluminium trays were rinsed for recycling, then promised to be in touch no earlier than the twenty-eighth about maybe a Hogmanay shindig at their place. Armitage, cheerfully woozy from _special_ lebkuchen and Oloroso, closed the door and leaned his back against it.  
“Is it true?” he demanded of Ben. “Are they all gone? Is it just us here?”  
“You and me, babe. Nobody here but us, chicken. I’ll search if you like.” Ben smiled and stroked Armitage’s face.  
“Thank fuck,” said Armitage, feeling more than hearing the silence in their home. “I could sleep for a week.”

Ben made him stay up for another hour, drinking water and watching crap TV, promising he’d regret it otherwise. Armitage only wanted to be wherever Ben was, preferably in bed, but Ben only laughed and hugged him tighter whenever he said so. Eventually it was not Christmas any more and Ben led Armitage, half asleep, to bed.  
“Hey,” said Ben as Armitage threatened to drop off without a kiss. “Merry Christmas, babe.”  
“Merry fucking Christmas,” mumbled Armitage into Ben’s shoulder. “Best ever.”


End file.
